Mother's Day
by SilverCrystal029
Summary: Just a one shot about some sad Rogue comic canon.


Kitty watched her roommate head across the lawn with a gothic looking book in her hand. The sun had barely risen, and she'd only gotten fitful, restless sleep. Kitty would know, because tonight her tossing and turning kept _her_ awake. Rogue was clad in a grey, cropped sweatshirt and tight athletic leggings. The brunette could see from afar that her face was not even covered in makeup, yet. That's how early it was. She'd fled their room, clearly disturbed.

The memories and dreams of others floated around in Rogue's head forever, until somebody found a solution. She had nightmares a few nights a week and the whole mansion had gotten used to dealing with them. But, this time had been different. Kitty bared witness. She wasn't so sure her nightmare had been somebody else's memories, this time.

Rogue's dreams frequently scared her, but not like this. Her fear had been like a child's, and it left Kitty laying awake until she rose and and dressed herself, panting for fresh air.

_'N-No... Get off me! P-Please, stop. You're crushin' me... You're hurting me! Ah can't breathe,'_ It didn't sound like a normal memory, not to her. Not even staring down death had she sounded so scared. It filled the girl with a primal sense of dread. She couldn't get her friend's terrified whimpers out of her mind, and Kitty couldn't know about things and not do anything about it. But, she wasn't sure what she could do that wouldn't make the girl want to fight her. She was paralyzed with indecision and her friend's heartbreaking cries.

_"Spyin'_, Kitty?" She turned to see Logan, standing in a grey shirt and black jacket, some sort of wheat or barley rolling on his lips. He was always up this early, but he hadn't expected to find Kitty and Rogue's room empty while he was patrolling. This was weird of both of them. Rogue only fled to the outer grounds when she was bothered, and Kitty didn't disturb her sleep for anything.

"Oh, me? No..." She smiled lamely and studied her denim skirt. He watched as she wrung her hands together in obvious discomfort. His eyes scanned the horizon and secretly the pale-skinned girl, trying to wrangle her nerves enough to read. Her grip on the book was so tight the pages were shaking.

"Nightmare?" He asked, his voice soft. Kitty chews her lip so she doesn't jut it out.

"Yeah..." The discomfort in her voice alerts him it was no ordinary nightmare, but he knows when to push them both.

"Y'know, Kitty... She _knows_, now..." He watched her stare at the pages, not reading a single word. His eyes narrowed. "When to ask for help, to come to people." He desperately wanted her to do the same thing. Tag someone in, ask for help baring whatever burden she'd been carrying around since they saw her. But, he also knew you could not force help. And, trying would probably do more damage than good. Their closeness was based on him giving the girl the respect to navigate things on her own.

"I _know,_" Kitty says, cocking her ponytail to the side. She wants to say a million things, but she can't. "She's just so... Tough, ya know. Like you." Logan grimaced, he wished he was as strong as either of them.

"Yeah, I know." He wrapped an arm around the petite girl, fighting his own instinct to reach out to Rogue. "C'mon, why don't you watch _me_ make breakfast..." He relaxes a little when her smile becomes genuine.

"Sure."

* * *

Kurt was hanging from the kitchen chandelier, chattering with Bobby and Jubilee about the movie he saw the night before. Jean was telekinetically making a breakfast plate for herself, Scott, and Logan while she chattered about Danger Room sessions and classes with Hank, later. It was a normal morning in the institute. Busy. Hectic. Kitty was at the kitchen island, staring at a blank word document on her laptop while the kitchen buzzed around her. Rogue still hadn't shown. She was usually late to the breakfast party, if she even showed at all.

Logan stood in the doorway, his grip pulled tight on the mug of coffee in his hand. When he realized the date, he felt sick to his stomach. It was Mother's Day and if he'd learned anything it was that Rogue's nightmares and memories didn't surface without reason. She'd told him and the professor, tearfully, that she remembered nothing of her mother. _Real_ mother. And, the knot of memories surrounding her father were buried so deep, Charles doesn't think she'll ever remember them.

He remembers that night, riding hours into the Canadian wilderness and leveling a small forest with his hands. The day, like many others, was gonna be hard for her.

"Listen up, everyone." The kitchen chatter continued, but Kitty looked up from her computer. "Today... Is_ Mother's Day._" This garnered everyone's attention. Jean placed a solemn hand on her boyfriend's arm. His face was deep in thought, but the telepath is certain that he thinks about both of his parents, often. "Now, pre-approved visits will be happening today. Feel free to use any school resources to contact your family, if that requires_ money_ please talk to me, Ororo, or Charles."

There was a discomfort on his face belying generally positive words. His grim stare landed on Scott. "Please, be.._. Thoughtful_ of people, who may have nobody to call. Nobody to visit with..." It was speculated that Ray lived in the sewers with the Morlocks before he came to the school. Jubilee was also an orphan, as Rogue and Scott were. Kurt dropped from the ceiling, his hand behind his head. His foster parents had been wonderful, but Mystique gave him life. That would always be the truth.

Scott's brow furrowed. "He's right, you never know who could be feeling sensitive about today." He chimes in as Jean wraps an arm around him. He stared at her with a smile.

"My mom and dad can't _wait_ to see you," She murmurs with a frown. Logan put his hands in worn jean pockets.

"Anybody seen_ Rogue?_" Kurt's tail drooped. He'd had a feeling to seek out his sister that morning, but she was especially elusive.

"No, not this morning." Scott answered, a hand on his chin.

"She's by the gazebo." Jean answers, keeping the pressing feelings she felt to herself. She wanted to meddle, interfere, help. Desperately. It was the basis of who the red head was. But, she had to learn to respect Rogue's space if she ever hopes to have a relationship with her like she has with the rest of her teammates. This understanding was helping, it even compelled Rogue to share with her, sometimes.

But, it was difficult. She felt without knowing the root of a lot of the girl's most complicated feelings. Logan nodded, and ventured off to likely see with his own eyes that she was okay. When the original X-Men remained in the kitchen, Kitty spoke against her better judgement. "What... What do you do, if you think someone _needs_ to talk about something, but..." She fidgeted when they all turned to her. "You don't think they will?" Jean sighed, but Scott's posture straightened out.

"Whoa, Kitty. That sounds serious." He begins, forehead permanently wrinkled. "What do you mean?"

"Scott, she says she doesn't_ think_ she wants to share..." Jean tries, determined to fight her very nosy nature.

"She?" Scott says, wondering if his girlfriend was more in the loop than he was. He pulled on a striped blue and red sweater and cocked an eyebrow.

"Okay, like vhat do you mean?" Kurt asks over the couple's head, chewing on a muffin. He hated when Kitty played word games. Jean turns and begins slicing fruit for a smoothie, unsure what else to do with her nervous energy. She fiddles with her purple, button up shirt and tries to ignore the prying conversation. _'It's none of your business, Jean...'_

"Rogue had a nightmare." The petite girl admits while shutting her laptop. The statement was not out of the ordinary. Both boys frowned.

"Is she okay? Do you think her psyches are acting up, again? S-Should we tell the professor?" Scott still blamed himself for her meltdown, all the signs he didn't see, the toll that her powers actually took on her. He regretted every time he'd asked her to use them.

"Ve can tell the professor, and he-"

"I don't think it was a memory. Someone_ else's_ memory, I mean..." Kitty's voice is small. Kurt's stomach began to wring. He'd always wonder why his sibling had so much more access to other's memories than _her own._ Discovering that Mystique was not only her best friend, but her mother really damaged her mind. He hates thinking about wondering if she'd wake up.

"Kitty..." Jean tries, her eyes shut tight. "I _don't_ thi-"

"You think it was_ her_ memory..." Scott says. He can't remember the girl having flashes of her own past, before. Kitty set an elbow on the table. "Listen, I know it's scary and hard to watch, sometimes. But, right now I think we need to make sure Rogue knows she's normal for having nightmares. We all have them, even memories we'd rather not have." Kurt nodded, scratching his head.

"Yeah, right. Like, that time I vas grounded for _two months._.." The German mutant frowned. Kitty shook her head.

"Not everyone has memories of_ ghosts_ climbing on top of them and _hurting_ them, Scott. You didn't hear her. It was.. It was _awful_." Jean's face practically turns green as Kurt struggles to understand what she says. It made little sense, and is something he can say he's never heard, before. Yet, he still knew the very sinister implications behind them, and he didn't like it.

"G-Ghosts... _Hurt_ her?"

"That, that _actually_ sounds like a typical sleep paralysis description. Lots of people have that." She recovers, before the boys can really freak out. _'Kitty, please. Not now.'_ She's trying to catch the smaller girl's eyes, but she won't look. She knows better. "T-The professor and Hank can help her with those symptoms so she can get better sleep. It's something about the sleep cyc-"

"S-Someone was_ hurting_ her?" Scott's voice is small, but his cheeks are flushing red. His fingers are clenching and unclenching. Abuse claims were rampant in orphanages, and he remembers the juvenile description for sexual depravity. Kurt is luckily more innocent and naive, but Scott's mind is working fast to connect the dots of his defensive friend. And like most men, he didn't like where it was going.

"V-Vell, _who_?" Kurt leans on the table, frantic.

"Listen, why don't you and Scott meet us in the Game Room? I saw a TED-talk about _boundaries_ I want to show Kitty," She glowered at her, but the petite mutant was relentless. She couldn't get the images from her mind, the sounds she placed a pillow over her head to drown out. Kurt's mind is bouncing from idea to idea, each one making less sense than the last.

"Vas someone in your room?" Kurt tries, struggling to understand the oppressive mood in the room. Scott's hands were on her hips.

"J-"

"It's alright guys, it's girl talk." Scott reluctantly pulled Kurt away, knowing that it was usually better to let Jean handle things like this. Men were explosive and reactive. Bullheaded. They can't feel things without doing things. Kitty hadn't confirmed anything, but his assumptions made him want to break things. Like Wolverine. Now, he understood the stout man, better. Jean placed her hands on wide hips when she was left with Kitty. "Kitty... I_ know_ you just want to help-"

"She_ cried_, Jean. All night." The telepath hung her head and hugged herself. She didn't need to be told, she felt it everyday. Rogue carried things with her that would break many other people. If anything, Jean always respected that. "There's so much she walks with and keeps inside..."

"I know, Kitty. But, that's _her_ choice. We can't force her to share, no matter how bad you want to. I know how you feel." Kitty shook her head. "Talking helps some people work through things, but some people _truly_ would rather not. Like, Logan." Kitty's brow furrowed.

"It all makes so much sense... Her mutation, the way she acts, general repulsion to men..." She met Jean's face with tear filled eyes. "How does she _stand_ it?"

"I don't know, Kitty. But, you have to trust her to know when to come to us." She placed a hand on her caring friend's shoulder. "She's stronger than you know. Really."

"I'm not _worried_ about her being strong." Kitty hugged her laptop to her chest. "I'm worried about the little girl, the one I heard." Jean took a deep breath. "The one I don't think anybody helped." She turned to go be by herself, feeling overwhelmed. Jean sighed.

"Kitty, wait!"

* * *

Rogue stood awkwardly in her outfit comprised of the most formal pieces she owned. A long grey skirt with a slit, a lilac scarf (that Kitty had given her for christmas), elbow length gloves, and a shiny, black cami. She knew she was a walking freak show, but she hoped Kitty's normal parents and Kurt's normal foster parents wouldn't be put off, by her. The girl with nobody to see, on any holiday.

Whose (on a good day) parents she can't remember. At all. She tucked silver bangs behind her ear and took a deep breath, the living room full of chatter and the sound of Ororo's piano playing. A normal room for people without crippling anxiety. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Scott placed a hand on her shoulder. She tried not to stare at the silky, printed shirt she knows Jean picked out for him. "Hey," He says, forcing a smile.

"Hi." She looked back into the busy room, arms folded.

"You're... Not alone. Today. Nobody's... Walking through that door for me, _either_." Every holiday, Scott took care to mention they were in the same boat (even though Alex and Jean's family's had basically adopted him). Kurt had adopted_ her,_ and he was probably all the family she needed. But, she did not have a family beyond the X-Men, and she'd never have one.

"Thanks, Scott." She steeled her face and worked up the nerve to finally answer Kurt and Kitty's beckon. He watched after her with a disconcerted look on his face.

"Mom, dad. There's _someone_..."

"I vant you to meet." Both mutants beamed, their parents standing behind them. Kitty is a dead ringer for her mom. They have the same hair, and the same height, the same eyes. Kurt bares no resemblance to his, but Rogue is glad he had kind, supportive parents to raise the person she knows. She can see their kindness in their eyes. She wonders who she'd be if she had that.

_"Hi, Rogue._" They all said in unison.

"Ve have been vanting to meet Kurt's sister." His mother says warmly, her eyes crinkling in the corners. "The pleasure, is ours."

"Hello, Rogue. Kitty's told us _so much_ about you." Her mother laughs, clasping Rogue's gloved hand.

"You're her muse." Her dad followed, and they both held out bags. Rogue felt her cheeks redden, suddenly embarrassed. Logan watched from the doorway, pleased even without a smile on his face. He sipped his black coffee in silence. "We're glad our little girl has such a good friend."

"Just some things we grabbed when we were shopping for Kitty." Rogue doesn't know what to say, running her fingers over her bag.

"T-Thanks..."

"Ve packed some cookies and potato salad for you, ve need to get some meat on you, ja!" Kurt smiles and leads his parents towards the kitchen. The psyches in Rogue's head became louder, for whatever reason. There were memories bubbling to the surface again, just like when she was sleeping._ 'N-No... Don't freak out. Not now.'_ Her ramping emotions split Jean's head, all the way across the room.

"Jean?" Scott says, quirking his eyebrow while her parents talked to Charles.

_'Everything okay?' _

_An image of a tall man, with a beer gut and a stained, ripping flannel comes to mind. He always has a hat on and beer in his hand. Every memory she can drag up. He's red faced and angry, always too close to her. Too close, too close. Gripping her too hard. Daddy. 'No...' She remembers the night she fled from her own home, the one her mother never lived in. Because, her mother was dead. Dead, before she could even meet her daughter. _

_"You took your momma away, girl. Ya poison." She's barely four, can barely comprehend the words he says. "Died to bring this skunk haired freak into the world. Don't think Ah don't know what ya are, girl. One o' them freaks nobody talks about." He gripped her arm tight and she cries, fingers pressing into old bruises. He smells like beer and sweat. Bacon. _

_Images of him in her head make her cry. She feels his breath and can't move. "I'll give ya somethin' to cry about." _

_She ran through the Mississippi wilderness, one shoe and one sock on. That's when Mystique found her, smiling. Glad the girl is as tough as she's gonna need her to be._

_Just like Destiny wrote._

Rogue gasped as she reared back, spilling the gift bags onto the floor. "Rogue," Kitty cries in shock.

"Are you alright, dear? Need some water?" Her head became of chorus of words, too many to understand. _'NO,'_

Screaming, she tore away and ran past Logan, shoving him aside in a frenzy.

"Wait!"

_"Rogue?_" Scott tried, peeking his head back into the room. "Is she alright?" Kitty had her face covered.

"I'll go." Is all the stout man says before disappearing out the door. Just in time to see Rogue take to the air. He stared at the sky in shock, unable to recall the last time he saw her do that. Kurt teleported beside him as she disappeared from sight.

"That's not good." Is all the blue mutant says, his tail swishing. Logan lit a cigarette.

"Nope. Sure ain't." He said before walking off.

* * *

He had to scale the Upstate New York cliffside to find her, with great labor since her flight left no scent trail. After talking with Kitty, he realized this was a time he needed to reassure the girl. The overflow of Rogue's mind had driven Jean to tears. He luckily had gotten to know the teenager's mind well, and how it operated under times of stress. He'd be more worried if this hadn't happened, all holidays were tense for her. And, for good reason. She had more memories of other people's than her own. In his experience, that meant one thing: abuse.

He pulled himself up with great effort, dusting dirt and leaves off his jeans. "_Kid?_"

She was tucked into herself, looking remarkably small in a skirt and tank top. He can smell the tears he can't see, and they make him uncomfortable. His instinct is to drag his claws through whatever's making her cry, and he's not sure that's possible. "Ah _killed_ her. My mother."

"Rogue,"

"She died, bringin' _me_ here. Leavin' my daddy all _alone_..." She shook when he gripped her shoulder, eyes closed tight. If she'd never been born, a lot of things wouldn't have happened.

"Don't you dare blame yourself for what happened to her, or what your _father_ did to you. None of that's your cross to bear." Though she lived with psychics, she'd always wondered if Logan had always known. He always knew when to push and punish her, and when to let things slide. When to talk her through things and when to leave her to sort it out. He always treated her with a delicacy that understood more than he let on.

And, he'd given Remy a talking to after Apocalypse that changed the man's behavior towards _all_ the girls. No longer did he constantly breach the girl's boundaries, instead he worked to be worthy of getting to pass them. To know her, to be allowed past her guard. "Do Ah just... _Reek_ of damaged goods?" He winced at the look on her face. Distant.

"I been around for a_ long time,_ Rogue. That means bein' able to know things I'd rather not know, to be honest." He spares a look to the horizon and wonders about the man that harms what he creates. Defiles, something even more innocent than the kids he worried were helpless. Made his mind explode in a rage he can't explain. He has half a mind to go to Mississippi, but he's by the girl's side.

"How _didn't_ Ah..." She feels stupid and foolish for managing to hide this important knowledge from herself. Her general attraction to girls, problems with authority, a fear of being touched that goes beyond her mutation. It seemed so obvious, now.

"The mind will do a lot to protect itself, especially yours." He moved closer to the girl when she begins to shake, each breath getting harder to come by. "It's _okay,_ Rogue. None of this is your fault." He wrapped an arm around her, his grip white knuckle. "_None of it._" She sniffled and just nodded, wishing she could stuff the knowledge back in the Pandora's Box it came from.

"Ah wish Ah _never remembered_..." She whispered as the wind blew past them. The truth never set her free. He nodded, smiling sadly. "It hurts."

"Of course you do." He fights a violent impulse. "We're... _Here_ for you Rogue. However... Much _or_ little you want to talk about it. We all just... Want to see you _heal._" It's hard for him not to pry, to crack her open so he can know all her hurts and fix them. That will just scare her away. "I think you should at least... _Talk_ to Charles. He's... Good at this sort of thing." Words. Him, not so much. Rogue nodded, it was not a series of sessions she was looking forward to. But, they might be necessary.

"Yeah. Ah'll do that." She says, her throat tightening. He watches her try to steel her face and fail. He can smell her hurt, but she's still trying to brave. Shivering. Realizing she's never been loved until she was sixteen. God, the thought of an abused child finding their way into _Mystique's_ arms makes the pit of his stomach hurt. He always knew there was a reason she'd hidden that from herself, too. She went from the hands of one predator to another. It sheds a lot of light on her botched recruitment and the difficulty she had breaking away from Mystique.

"It'll be _okay_, Rogue." He snuck a glance at her just to be sure. "There are people that _care about_ you, now." She nodded dumbly, and they sat together in silence for a while. Listening to each other's breaths and heartbeats. "You wanna head back, soon? It's getting cold out here." He's fine, but he's looking at the thin material of the clothes she's wearing. She blinked.

"Maybe, in a _little while?_" He smiled sympathetically. "There's... Too many fathers. Too many_ men_. _Too many cans of drinks-"_ Too many triggers. Too many people to disappoint. She raised tired, grey eyes to meet ones as black as night.

"Hey. You don't have to tell me." He's shed his jacket and laid it across her shoulders. "We'll stay here as long as you need to." Charles had a lot of resources at his disposal. When the girl was feeling better, he was sure a trip to Mississippi was in order. But for now, he would wait.

_"Thanks."_


End file.
